


When American Electoral Politics Attack!

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The political gets very personal on the TGS set, as five pairs discuss politics and secret affairs. Gratuitous snarking on Daily Kos, speculation about downticket races, and Kenneth having patriotism abounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When American Electoral Politics Attack!

1\. Grizz and Dot-Com

“So what do you think of the identity politics surrounding the election, yo?” Grizz asked Dot-Com during a dull afternoon on set.

“I think I don’t trust the Daily Kos set and their Obama bandwagoneering,” Dot-Com replied. “Shameless. And what about the Edwards supporters, son? In a historic opportunity, you’re going for the white boy?”

“I liked Edwards’ economic policies, though,” Grizz said with a shrug. “Two Americas, what? That was the truth and we wouldn’t be hearing about it without Edwards in the game.”

“He may have spit truth, but I don’t think them IT-managing Gen X self-important white boys of the so-called progressive blogosphere were all about the policies so much as they were the almighty identity politics of The Man,” Dot-Com said, and then grimaced. “Was that unnecessarily harsh?”

They were both reminded of the noisy on-set fight between Miss Lemon and Mr. Donaghy that morning, which had ended with Liz Lemon shouting, “Nobody asks if the reason you vote for men is cuz you also have a penis, so why don’t you GET OFF MY HAIR, Jack?”

“I think it’s telling it like it is,” Grizz said. “Too bad we couldn’t combine Edwards’ policies, Obama’s rhetoric and charisma, and Hillary’s hard-assed pragmatism about Republicans into the uber-candidate. That brother would be unstoppable.”

“Or sister,” Dot-Com said, holding up a hand. “Miss Lemon’s got a point when she goes on her rants about turning ideal people into men all the time.”

Grizz nodded and picked up his XBox controller. “You think her and Donaghy are having a secret affair?” he asked. “Cuz that get off my hair comment was Freudian, man.”

“I’m saying,” Dot-Com said. “But I don’t know. Tray hasn’t announced it to us yet, and you know he always knows when the real freaky-deaky nonsense is going down.”

“So, you think not yet, but heading that way?” Grizz said. “Thank God, thank God, because both of them NEED to get on each other and get off us.”

Dot-Com patted his fellow entourage member on the back. Ever since a very drunk Liz had jumped in Grizz’s lap and made out with him for twenty minutes and then started crying when Grizz had told her enough, things had been awkward. Especially because Liz would blush furiously when she gazed entourage-ward.

“So are we gonna have to get another copy of Dance Dance Revolution?” Dot-Com asked as they resumed their long-delayed game of Halo 3. “Yo, Tracy did them pads some damage last night.”

They both gazed over at the completely wrecked pads, complete with exposed wires, a smear of blood, and three bent corners. It was probably for the best they didn’t over-consider what had caused the fate of the unfortunate pad.

“We’ll send our boy Ken out to do it, if Tracy asks,” Grizz said. “We’re too busy today.”

“Then we’ll make Kenneth play some Dance Dance for us,” Dot-Com agreed. “Because that’ll be a good break.”

They bumped knuckles on it, and returned to their work of being Tracy Jordan’s entourage, quite content with themselves.

* * *

2\. Jenna and Josh

“I don’t see why voting matters anyway,” Josh complained. He was so shallow. Everyone knew that voting mattered; Liz said so, and so did P. Diddy and Madonna, so it clearly did. “Everyone knows that Simon Cowell manipulates the competition to maximize ratings. Even those blooper people he pretend to hate, like Sanjaya. That was so all about appealing to the base instincts of people.”

Jenna snorted. “What base instinct did Sanjaya appeal to?” she asked.

“Feeling sorry for the loser you’re laughing at,” Josh said with a knowing nod. Jenna thought maybe Josh was kind of being a closet-boy again, because Josh had been _so_ into Sanjaya during Idol, whatever. Also, that wasn’t the voting Jenna meant.

“What does that have to do with voting in the November election?” Jenna asked. “I mean, isn’t that super-super important? Didn’t you just get asked by those Vote or Die people to do a spot?”

That was why they were having the conversation, Jenna suddenly remembered. It seemed so long ago.

“Oh, yeah,” Josh said. He shrugged. “Who cares? I’m voting for the Democrat. So are you, so is everyone here except maybe the execs and Frank. Yo, did you see Liz fighting with Donaghy about that this morning? It was hilarious, because Donaghy said Liz was supporting Hillary because of identity politics and Liz teed off on him and said it was easy for him, because there were never any lack of white men to vote for, and blah blah blah, get off her hair.”

Jenna paused. Josh paused.

“Get off her…hair?” Jenna asked, thoroughly confused. “Is that the new get off my back? Did I miss that? Is that what the kids say now?”

“Only if you’re on someone’s hair, which usually only happens when you’re having sex with someone,” Josh said. “But they weren’t having sex, so that sentence totally didn’t make sense.”

Jenna’s eyes went huge as the clue-by-four descended. “Josh, do you know what this means?”

“Liz is retarded and I’m gonna make fun of her for telling Donaghy to get off her hair instead of her ass?” Josh inquired, waggling his eyebrows.

“No, you moron,” Jenna said with a dazzling smile. “They’re doing it.”

“Sick!” Josh said, eyes huge. “Liz and Jack Donaghy? No way. She called him Jerk-in-a-Box when he told her that Huckabee had twice her comic timing. And why would Jack go for Liz? He dates supermodels and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, when he’s not stalking our set. I talk to people–” okay, so she’d actually been stalking the _Lipstick Jungle_ set and listening to hear if they needed a singing actress, but nobody needed to know that — “And I found out Jack spends twice the time here than he does anywhere else. Even that time when Conan had that problem with the cop stripper.”

“No way, man,” Josh said.

“I can’t believe she hasn’t told me,” Jenna said.

“She hasn’t told you because they’re not doing it,” Josh replied. “Grizz! Dot-Com! Tell Jenna she’s smoking crack to think Liz is doing it with Jack.”

Dot-Com shrugged. “We think it’s headin’ that way,” he said. “Get off my hair, man.”

“Very Freudian,” Grizz said.

Jenna smirked. “Told you,” she said. “This is going to be the best scandal ever!”

“Yeah, until Liz has to decide between firing you and keeping her hot, rich executive boyfriend who likes to do it standing up,” Josh said.

Oh, crap.

Oh, _crap._ Liz wouldn’t do that. But then again, Liz had made Josh do the worm and fight his agent to keep his job. And that was during the Floyd period.

“We have to prevent this unholy relationship from ever happening,” Jenna said, completely resolved. “Liz will hate herself for contradicting her ethics and having an affair with the boss once she tumbles out of the euphoria of having good sex for the first time ever.”

Of course Josh would laugh. Men. That was so why Jenna was voting for Hillary, because Hillary would understand. To hell with Barack Obama, women first! Sisters before man-dates!

…she needed a better girl-power version of “bros before hos.”

* * *

3\. Frank and Toofer

“It’s a matter of looking at the electoral map, dipshit,” Frank said. “If Obama keeps the Kerry states, plus flips Virginia and Iowa, Ohio can suck it and so can McCain, even if he turns out every moderate in the Northeast.”

“What about New Hampshire? And don’t you vote Libertarian anyway?” Toofer asked.

“New Hampshire is a possible spoiler, but I think Obama plus the momentum from the Shaheen senatorial race, and general New England opposition to the Iraq occupation keeps it in,” Frank replied with a shrug. “And dude, I am one of three Libertarians in New York City. Protest voting is one of my few pleasures.”

Toofer shrugged. “I still think you underestimate how damned conservative and stupid this country is,” he said. “Especially if McCain puts Colin Powell on his ticket.”

“Yeah, that’ll make evangelical Christian voters and your classic Southern racist asshat super-happy,” Frank said. “We already kind of don’t like McCain, so what will make us extra-happy? Dissing evangelical poster boy Mike Huckabee in favor of a moderate African-American.”

Toofer rolled his eyes. “You’re accusing evangelicals of doing things that make sense?” he asked.

“Point,” Frank said with an exaggerated shrug. “I still think the racists stay home in that case. And I think Colorado, New Mexico, and Missouri deliver for Obama, even if New Hampshire doesn’t.”

There was a long pause from Toofer, who then said, “For a Libertarian who supported Ron Paul, you know an awful lot about down-ticket Democratic races and electoral strategy.”

“Dude, any Libertarian who supports Republicans after their dismissal of habeas corpus is a poseur,” Frank said. “Like, seriously, those guys really are just Republicans who like to smoke weed. Besides, what else is there to talk about? If Liz is boffing Donaghy?”

Toofer nodded slightly before raising an eyebrow. “And what’s your opinion?”

“I think Liz had an unfortunate slip of the tongue,” Frank said. “She said penis, which made her think of sex, and in Liz’s mind, sex is apparently linked to guys on her hair. Which is kind of sad. She should get a boyfriend who doesn’t suck.”

“That does make sense,” Toofer said grudgingly, tapping a pencil on his pad.

That was when Liz wandered into the writers’ room. Her cardigan was inside out, her shirt half-buttoned, and she had this little smile on her face.

“Awesome fashion statement,” Frank said as she passed by.

“I try,” Liz said, not even looking at them as she walked into her office and closed the door.

Toofer looked at Frank, who looked at Toofer.

“I stand corrected,” Frank said.

“Yeah,” Toofer agreed nonchalantly. “So, what can you tell me about the House races in Virginia?”

“How long do you got?” Frank replied.

* * *

4\. Jack and Liz

Why did her writers live at the office? Why? She had just wanted to sneak into her office and fix her awesome fashion statement and even more awesome Freudian slip. And then maybe die of her stupidity.

Get off her hair. That was proof that God was mad at Liz Lemon for having skeevy but amazingly hot sex with her Republican boss. And what was worse, after shouting, “Get off my HAIR, Jack!” at the top of her lungs and a brief coffee break, she’d gone up to his office and done it again.

“Your hair? Did you want to give your crew the heads-up that we’re entangled?” Jack had asked when she came in, pacing. “Are you entirely out of your mind?”

“Yes!” Liz snapped. “Yes, I am. I am involved with a McCain voter who taunts me into Freudian slips in front of my staff. I think that’s the textbook definition of crazy. Especially the part where I’m the rebound and I don’t want you — except I keep doing you.”

“It’s good that you recognize your faults, though you have some insane ideas of what causes them,” Jack said. “What you should consider crazy is your need to ruin and denigrate a good thing to spite me.”

“I do not do everything to SPITE you, Jack,” Liz snarled.

“Just the important things,” Jack replied. “I’m insane for not throwing you out of here and sending you on a corporate retreat to learn DISCRETION while I find a less self-loathing companion.”

“Ooh, now you’re the big mentor,” Liz said. Man, she’d gotten angry at him. Which had actually gotten her kind of excited. And by kind of, she meant very much and very fast. “So what am I, the stupid pity screw?”

Jack had rolled his eyes. “Indiscreet is different from stupid, though both are simply your stubborn pigheadedness manifesting themselves unattractively.”

“God, I want to throw you against a wall right now,” Liz had replied, clapping her hand over her mouth as the words hung there in the air. Jack stopped pacing. “I mean. I.”

And there was Jack, in Liz’s personal space. “Lemon, are you turned on right now?” he asked quizzically.

“So much that I might be taunting you to get a rush,” Liz said, appalled. No! Bad! Did not want!

… _So wanted._

“I can always tell when you’re fighting with yourself,” Jack noted. “Your jaw twitches like you’re trying very hard not to say what you’re thinking.”

Liz glared. “If you were a good mentor, you’d throw me out for having some sort of hormone-induced temporary sex addiction,” she said.

“On the contrary,” Jack said. “You need to take more responsibility for and control of your desires.”

“I don’t want to right now,” Liz said. “I’m cranky, I completely slipped in front of everyone, and you smell good.”

Jack shrugged. “Desk, couch, or executive chair?” he asked.

“I vote chair,” Liz said. “Chair 2008.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that if Huckabee had won the nomination, I would have voted for Obama?” Jack had asked before taking her sweater off.

Liz nodded. Because it did, even if he was just saying it to get her to do him again.

* * *

5\. Tracy and Kenneth

“Mr. Jordan, do you vote?” Kenneth asked. He was very curious about this; everyone at _TGS with Tracy Jordan_ was very adamant about voting being very important, but most of them didn’t think it would change anything unless they were a die-hard Obama supporter. Or Mr. Donaghy. Mr. Donaghy was very interested in voting, but when Kenneth asked why, Mr. Donaghy had talked a lot about interest rates, trade deficits, and labor policies.

Kenneth was a simple pig farmer’s son; the trade deficit confused him, as did monetary policy. And he just didn’t understand why Frank and Mr. Donaghy had almost gotten into a fistfight over the gold standard, or what the gold standard was.

“Hell no, Ken!” Tracy said. “Voting is for chumps and rich people.”

“Aren’t you rich, Mr. Jordan?” Kenneth asked, baffled.

“Yes, I am, but I’m not a rich person. I keep it real,” Tracy said. “Rich people are like Jackie D, knowing all about how to make money and how to make politics make money make more money. That ain’t me. I just do what my financial manager tells me to do.”

Kenneth nodded. That made sense. Sort of. “So why is voting for chumps?” he asked.

“Because have you ever seen anything change cuz you vote? No. I voted 800 times in that Cosby Show poll to make my favorite episode the one where Bill Cosby set that house on fire, but did it win?” Tracy asked. “No, Kenneth, it didn’t. Besides, this state is full of crazy Democrats like Liz Lemon. Under the Electoral College’s winner-take-all system, my vote means nothing!”

Kenneth didn’t remember an episode of The Cosby Show where Dr. Cosby had set his house on fire. Of course, Kenneth had had to secretly watch the show at a friend’s house, because his momma didn’t approve of the radicalism of it, so maybe he’d just missed it. Or maybe Tracy was talking about an episode that only Mr. Jordan knew about, like that episode of Friends where the only black friend ever had been racially profiled and then beaten up by Ross and Joey.

“Well, Mr. Jordan, you could do what I do, and maintain legal residence in a swing state like Pennsylvania,” Kenneth said. “It makes me feel like I have more of a say in how my beloved country runs.”

Tracy gave Kenneth a confused look of his own. “Be a legal resident of Pennsylvania? Ken, that is HARD CORE!” he said. “It sounds like too much trouble to me.”

“That’s just what the Founding Fathers wanted, to make voting hard so that people realized how important it was and worked hard to do it,” Kenneth said. “So what do you say, Mr. Jordan? Can I take your voter registration form downtown for you and enfranchise you as an American?”

“Sure, Ken, I’ll do that for you,” Tracy said, signing the form. “Wait, can potential felons vote in this state?”

Kenneth paused. “I don’t know. I’ll ask Miss Lemon. She always knows,” he said.

Mr. Jordan started laughing. “Just don’t get in her way if she’s off for another booty call,” he said. “Cuz Liz Lemon is like all them sexy librarians. ‘Ew, I hate sex, but now I had good sex, so now I’m like boom boom all the time!'”

“Mr. Jordan!” Kenneth said, his eyes huge. “I’m very uncomfortable now. I can’t ask Miss Lemon about voting when I’m thinking about her doing that.”

“Sorry, Kenneth,” said Tracy. “I guess voting will have to wait until next year.”

Kenneth shook his head. “No, sir, you will not,” he said. “Even if I find the idea of illicit fornication distasteful, I will not allow a man to be disenfranchised by my squeamishness about premarital intercourse.”

Tracy thumped him on the shoulder. “You’re a true patriot, Ken,” he said, tears in his eyes. “Can you ask Liz Lemon if I get to have fornication breaks again, too? Cuz if she’s havin’ ’em and I’m not, that’s racial discrimination.”

“No, sir, I won’t,” Kenneth said. “But I’ll tell her you want to talk to her. And now, to increase freedom!”

He marched away, proud to be an American and an NBC employee. Where else could Kenneth teach a celebrity the importance of his civic duty and learn about the secret episodes of television only Tracy knew about?


End file.
